


but I couldn't care for the history

by solacefruit



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Beta Read, F/M, i keep forgetting to add that tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 13:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21302984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solacefruit/pseuds/solacefruit
Summary: “I didn’t want to involve you,” said Squirrelflight, avoiding his eyes. “I thought, hey, if this goes wrong—and it might—then I could feel okay knowing that you’re not going to get pulled down with us. I figured, plausible deniability. You could go on living in Thunderclan and—” she took a little steadying breath “—when you die, reallyreallyold, likeancient, all your teeth falling out of your head, well… Starclan’s got no reason not to welcome you, if you don’t know.”She forced herself to look at him.“But that would be wrong,” she said. “I can’t lie to youandsay I love you.”
Relationships: Brambleclaw/Squirrelflight (Warriors)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 326





	but I couldn't care for the history

**Author's Note:**

> _and there's no conspiracy_   
_behind the way to heist me_   
_when love is a two way street_

Brambleclaw was sharpening his claws on a maple at the roadside when Squirrelflight appeared. She weaved through the chunks of rock littered outside the new Thunderclan campsite, leaping easily down the stone-jutted slope like a frog across lily pads. Her tail, a full plume, red as a sunset, waved high as she trotted down to him. 

They bumped cheeks together, something so familiar and still so thrilling. 

“You wanted to talk?” said Brambleclaw. 

Squirrelflight’s ears twitched almost imperceptibly back towards camp as he asked, but Brambleclaw noticed. He couldn’t help it.

He used to tease her when they were younger, saying it was impossible not to notice someone so loud—but it was only half the truth. The whole truth is that it was hard not to notice Squirrelflight when the rest of the world faded to such quiet around her; every other colour in the world muted, every other voice just that little bit less clear. 

“Let’s hunt first,” she said, and she said it so brightly anyone else would have missed the worry in the tremor of her whiskers. 

Brambleclaw let her lead the way across the abandoned dirt road and into the forest on the other side. 

It was moon-high, although it wasn’t always easy to tell in Thunderclan territory. In some places, the branches overhead clustered so densely, there was no space for the sky. In others, moonlight filtered down in stark beams, pooling in milky-silver on the half-rotten leaf litter. 

Ahead of him, Squirrelflight padded through one such glade now; her fur glowed at the edges, neither white nor gold, but some inarticulable shine of colour.

She glanced back at him—no, he realised, she glanced _beyond _him, over his shoulder, searching the dark of the forest.

“All right,” he said, catching up to her in a few bounds. “Now you tell me what’s going on.”

Squirrelflight nodded for him to sit to the side of the glade with her in the bracken at the base of a holly tree. 

“No-one else can hear about this,” she began.

“I guessed,” said Brambleclaw dryly, but stopped when he saw the harsh set of her ears. Her tail tip flicked in unspoken agitation. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “_I’m_ okay.” 

Brambleclaw searched her expression for any indication of what to expect, but was still surprised when she finally said, “I love you, you know?”

Brambleclaw opened his mouth to reply that _yes, he did know_, when she continued. 

“I didn’t want to involve you,” said Squirrelflight, avoiding his eyes. “I thought, hey, if this goes wrong—and it might—then I could feel okay knowing that you’re not going to get pulled down with us. I figured, plausible deniability. You could go on living in Thunderclan and—” she took a little steadying breath “—when you die, really _really_ old, like _ancient_, all your teeth falling out of your head, well… Starclan’s got no reason not to welcome you, if you don’t know.”

She forced herself to look at him. 

“But that would be wrong,” she said. “I can’t lie to you _and_ say I love you.”

Brambleclaw took a moment, trying to follow what she’d said. 

“Are you saying… you want someone else?” he hazarded. His stomach gave an awful, sudden drop at hearing the words out loud. 

Squirrelflight blinked. “_No_?” she said, almost sounding angry with him. “Where did you get that? No, don’t worry about it, just…” She collected herself and then said, “I’m going to have kits, Brambleclaw. Soon. That’s what I’m telling you.”

Brambleclaw’s stomach now suddenly leaped, a great dizzying jump as if trying to reach all the way up to his heart. 

“That’s—” he started, scrambling for the right words. 

“Leafpool said I should give you a choice,” said Squirrelflight, as if she’d been practicing the words herself, “and I won’t be angry if you don’t want to be… to be a part of this. I’ll understand. I’m asking a lot. I know that.”

“Of course I want to!” said Brambleclaw at once. “It’s unexpected, but you know if you want to tell the clan they’re mine, that’s your right.” He was already half-purring. “And I’m going to be so proud, if you do. I’ll visit every day, I promise.” 

“Brambleclaw...” said Squirrelflight.

“Unless you don’t want me to,” he added quickly. “You can decide that later. Whatever you want. But yes, I want to be involved.” He looked to her, happiness filling his belly, warm as greenleaf. “How far along are you?”

“_Brambleclaw_,” said Squirrelflight, her voice flat and incredulous. “_Think_.” She held his gaze. 

“What?”

“I’m not pregnant!” she said, a hushed shout. “They’re Leafpool’s kits!” 

Brambleclaw felt his jaw drop. 

“How?”

Squirrelflight surprised them both then, a chuff escaping her before she could stop it. “The usual way, I’m pretty sure,” she said.

“Then why did you say…?” said Brambleclaw. A feeling of embarrassment was creeping over him. He pulled his tail around himself, self-conscious. “I thought you were saying they were mine.”

This time, Squirrelflight gave him a look of loving exasperation. “How could they be?” she said, but not unkindly. “Come on.”

There was a moment of quiet between them, both looking at their paws.

“Did you mean it—” Squirreflight began, as Brambleclaw said, “So you’re going to—”

“You go,” said Squirrelflight. 

“You’re going to take them in?” he asked. “Pretend they’re yours?”

She nodded. “That’s the plan. It’s not like Leafpool can keep them.”

“Why not?” Brambleclaw asked. “Firestar won’t throw her out of the clan for it. Even I know that.”

“The other clans,” replied Squirreflight. “They won’t accept it and who knows what kind of trouble they’ll make. They might try to force Thunderclan to banish her, for being a medicine cat, you know? They’ll say it’s against the code. And besides, Windclan will definitely try to take the kits if they know they’re hers.”

Brambleclaw looked at her, puzzled. “They’re Thunderclan kittens. It’s hard to be more Thunderclan than Firestar’s daughters.”

“The father,” said Squirrelflight. She sounded annoyed. 

Brambleclaw connected the pieces. “Crowfeather.”

“Regrettably,” said Squirrelflight. “I’m going to pretend he doesn’t exist and I’ve told Leafpool to do the same. He doesn’t need to know and neither do the kits. They’ll be born here, to a Thunderclan cat on Thunderclan territory and they’ll get Thunderclan mentors and their father’s blood won’t mean anything more than your father’s blood means for you. Leafpool agrees with me about that. Windclan doesn’t _need _to be involved.”

“But I do,” said Brambleclaw, after a long pause in the conversation. 

Squirrelflight tentatively moved closer to him and put her forehead against his shoulder. “I would like that,” she said, quiet. “But it’s your choice. If you want, you can go tell the clan the truth now. I can’t stop you.”

Brambleclaw considered her words carefully.

“I do want to tell them the truth,” he said, and beside him, he felt Squirrelflight stiffen. “I want all the clans to know _I’m_ going to be a father.” 

Squirrelflight let out a breath. “You scared me just now.”

“But it _is_ the truth, right?” He nudged his shoulder to hers. “They’re our kittens. Well, will be.”

“Yes,” said Squirrelflight, “but they’re not going to have your blood at all. You understand that, don’t you? At least Leafpool’s my sister and littermate. That’s almost like they’re mine.”

“Blood,” said Brambleclaw with a curl of his lip, not bothering to hide his disdain. “My father’s blood was a curse. Sometimes I wish _I_ didn’t have it. And for all I have his blood, I hardly knew _him_. Too busy being a tyrant and a murderer to be any kind of parent.” Brambleclaw could only just keep himself from growling. “So maybe the kits won’t have my blood, but at least _I’ll_ be there for them.”

Squirrelflight nodded. “And you’ll be happy like that?”

“Yes,” said Brambleclaw. It was like being asked if the sun was hot: obvious and indisputable. 

“I should tell you that Leafpool said there’s a chance the kittens will be cursed,” said Squirrelflight, staring at the moonlit glade. “They’re half-clan _and_ the kittens of a medicine cat. She said it’ll be a miracle from Starclan if they’re not.”

“Okay,” said Brambleclaw. There didn’t seem much else to say to that. Starclan was to Brambleclaw largely outside of his comprehension and he didn’t know where to begin to understand their ineffable movements. He did, however, have confidence in his ability to make the best of a bad situation. He had a lifetime of practice at it. “How will you hide that they’re Leafpool’s? Won’t everyone tell _you’re_ not pregnant?”

Squirrelflight shook her head. “Leafpool’s thought everything through. She said if I chew enough borage and red clover over the next few moons, especially in the last moon, it should make me soften up and change my scent a bit. I might even be able to nurse them when the time comes.” 

“And Leafpool?” 

“She smells strange enough already,” said Squirrelflight. “All those plants. She’ll make sure she’s away from everyone as much as possible, and the rest of the time I’ll be with her. It’ll be too hard for anyone to pick out what is what--and she also said it’s easy to hide something no-one’s looking for.” Squirrelflight gave a wry little twitch of her whiskers. “_Everyone knows medicine cats don’t have kits_,” she said, mimicking Leafpool with surprising accuracy. 

“How is she doing?” said Brambleclaw, a little uncertainly. He didn’t know if he was allowed to ask, or even what he was asking to know. 

Squirrelflight gave a small shrug of her shoulders. “She’s being… organised. Making the medicine cat den tidy. Thinking over her plans, over and over. She’s worried that things might go wrong and she’s feeling guilty. She made a mistake and now… this.” 

“Things could go right, too,” said Brambleclaw, hopeful. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Squirrelflight leaned against his side. “And I’m lucky to have you. You’re really fine with this? We could be kept out of Starclan for it. That’s a real possibility.”

Brambleclaw kissed Squirrelflight’s brow with his nose. “I don’t think we will,” he said. “The warrior code says kittens need to be cared for. That’s what we’re doing. It’s not their fault for being born.”

“But if Starclan doesn’t see it that way?” It was clear this had been on Squirrelflight’s mind a lot. 

“Then that’s not a clan I want to be part of,” said Brambleclaw firmly. “We’re not hurting anyone.”

“We’re lying to the clan,” Squirrelflight pointed out. 

Brambleclaw shook his head. “No, they’re going to be our kittens. That’s not a lie. Cats have changed clans before,” he said, thinking of Tawnypelt. “There’s no reason they can’t change parents.”

Beside him, Squirrelflight chuffed softly. “I don’t know if that’s how it works,” she said, with humour in her voice. “I guess we _can _confidently say they’re Sandstorm’s grand-kits. That’s the truth.”

“The medicine cat will be present at their birth,” said Brambleclaw. “We’ll be able to tell them that.”

“And that they were unexpected, but welcome,” added Squirrelflight. 

“A gift,” agreed Brambleclaw. 

Squirrelflight shifted to look at him, her eyes fond. “Last chance to get out of it,” she said. “You can walk away now and I won’t tell anyone they’re yours. I won’t let anyone even _think_ they’re yours at all, if you want.” 

“I’m staying,” said Brambleclaw. 

Squirrelflight purred. “You’ll regret that once they’re teething, I bet.”

“I’m staying with you,” Brambleclaw repeated, ignoring her teasing. “For as long as you want me. Even after all your teeth have fallen out.”

“Gross,” she said, wrinkling her nose. 

“When will you be telling the clan the good news?” said Brambleclaw. “I want to know when I can start strutting around with my chest out.”

“You do that anyway,” said Squirrelflight. She got to her paws and arched her spine, standing on the tips of her toes for a moment. The muscles in her legs shivered. “Don’t let it go to your head. There’s at least two moons before they’re due, Leafpool told me. We have to be careful until then.”

Brambleclaw huffed a breath and then got to his paws as well. “I think the best idea _is _to be loud about it, actually. We could tell Sandstorm at sun-high prayer. Firestar will let the whole forest know by this time tomorrow night.”

“And have everyone watch me for signs of showing all the time?” said Squirrelflight, but her tail kinked in uncertainty. “I don’t know how to act pregnant.”

“Do whatever you want,” suggested Brambleclaw, “and act like you own the campsite. That’s pretty queen-like behaviour. It’s not like anyone will argue with you.”

Squirrelflight tilted her head to the side, considering. 

“Maybe eat extra,” he added. 

“That feels wrong, since I’m not actually growing kits,” said Squirrelflight. “But I guess I can sneak prey to Leafpool and she can have it. That’ll work.” 

She gave Brambleclaw an odd look, that big brush tail of hers once again wavering with a sudden doubt. 

“Is it just me or is this just a little bit… fun?” she said. “It shouldn’t be. We’re doing something _very_ against the code right now.”

Brambleclaw gave her look along the lines of _oh well_.

“You do like breaking rules,” he said.

“I don’t _like _breaking rules!” said Squirrelflight, hackles fluffing. “I just think that sometimes rules need to be broken. That’s different.”

“I’m sure Firestar used to sound just like you,” said Brambleclaw, padding from under the bracken. “I wonder if the kits will be that headstrong too.”

“Better headstrong than thick-headed,” said Squirrelflight. She bounded over to him, headbutting his forehead with hers before prancing away to the glade. 

“There’s nothing wrong with a tough skull,” said Brambleclaw, pretending to pout. “If they ever fall out of a tree the wrong way, they’ll be grateful for it.”

“I vaguely remember _someone_ doing that _a lot_ growing up.” Squirrelflight glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes glittering playfully in the moonlight. 

“How else do you think I know what I’m talking about?” he replied with a rumble of purr. He trotted over to her. “We can’t all be agile.”

As if to taunt him, she leapt up, twisting in the air, before landing neatly on his shoulders in a typical battle-pounce. He leaned into the pounce, letting her knock him onto the soft rot-fragrant earth of the forest floor; it smelled of must and mushrooms, mouldy leaves, and the dark peaty ground below it all.

“You can teach them to fight,” said Squirrelflight, putting her nose against the curled whiskers of his inner ear enough to tickle, “and I’ll teach them how to do everything else.”

“That seems fair,” said Brambleclaw, slightly muffled by his own paw. If he wanted, he could easily throw Squirrelflight off him, and they both knew it. “Learning how to lose arguments is an important skill.”

Squirrelflight made an affronted noise and pounced on him again, biting his scruff and ear with mock-shakes of her jaw. After a few moments, he sat up and shook her off. 

“You’ll have to start being a little less energetic,” he said to her, washing pieces of earth from his underbelly. “You’re going to be heavy with kits soon.”

“Heavy,” she said, “_pfft_.” But she padded over and bumped her cheek to his. 

“You know,” she said, shining in the moonlight, “I think this might actually work. If we do this right, we could pull off the biggest trick Thunderclan’s ever seen. And no-one but us will ever know.”

“You can rely on me,” said Brambleclaw. 

“I know,” said Squirrelflight. “Anyway, you know what they say: a big terrible secret keeps the relationship interesting."

“Do they say that?” said Brambleclaw, tilting his head to the side. “Who says that?”

“They don’t say that,” said Squirrelflight, giving him a wry look. “I made it up just now. I’m trying something.”

“I don’t think it’ll catch on,” said Brambleclaw. “You’re interesting anyway,” he added. 

Squirrelflight gave a slightly over-dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “Oh, come on, let’s go hunting for real. I can’t have you standing there in the moonlight looking handsome and saying things like that to me.” 

“You think I’m handsome?” said Brambleclaw, padding after her towards the other side of the glade. 

“It’s unattractive to look for compliments,” replied Squirrelflight, not looking back at him.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Brambleclaw. “You’re already having my kits. It’s too late.”

Squirrelflight gave a little groan. They passed from the moonlight into the shadow of the trees.

“So… handsomeness,” said Brambleclaw, enjoying himself. “More or less than Elmface?”

“Way too old,” said Squirrelflight.

“Rowanclaw?”

“More,” said Squirrelflight. “No offense to Tawnypelt, but more.”

Brambleclaw chuffed. “What about Stormfur? More or less?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” said Squirrelflight, “less for sure.”

“_What_?”

“Like you said,” said Squirrelflight, a taunting trill in her voice, “doesn’t matter! I’m having your kits. You’re stuck with me now.”

“Rude,” muttered Brambleclaw. “What about Mothwing?”

“Hm,” said Squirrelflight, leading him through the underbrush. “All right, but not my type.” 

Brambleclaw loped a few lengths to catch up to her. 

“Your type is?”

“Dumb,” she said immediately, clearly working hard to keep her whiskers from twitching. 

Brambleclaw flattened his ears halfway to his head in a scowl.

“But very loyal,” continued Squirrelflight. “Generous. Very brave. And a good father.” She turned her head to glance at him, then narrowed her eyes. “Even kind of handsome, if you squint like this.”

Brambleclaw tried to scowl at her again, but couldn’t. Even with her eyes scrunched up, mocking him, he felt a great swell of heat in his heart as he looked at Squirrelflight padding beside him and imagined for the first time visiting her in the nursery some moons from now, their newborn kittens softly murmuring at her belly. 

_I love you_, he thought, watching Squirrelflight pull faces at him. 

“Don’t say anything sappy,” she threatened, as if guessing from his expression what he was thinking. “And look where you’re going.”

“I am,” said Brambleclaw. 

But he turned his eyes back to the path anyway, and together they prowled deeper into the forest, the rest of the world quiet and muted behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> _we're coming close to our fate_   
_they'll put a star beside our names_   
_but I couldn't care for the history_   
_when I've got you in front of me_
> 
> — Two Way Street, Kimbra.


End file.
